


Hush

by RedRidingHood



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: 5 times and 1, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 20:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4363943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRidingHood/pseuds/RedRidingHood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 Times Shaw wished Root would shut up, and 1 Time she didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hush

**Author's Note:**

> Originally part of my little prompts it grew too big to be added to the collection; though I don't feel like it's good enough to be posted as a stand-alone either... so, I'm just gonna leave this here and run?   
> It feels out of character- or at least more-so than my other stuff has been. I'm just not sure how I feel about it.

**Hush**

**1.**

Conversing with Root was 30% The Mission, 20% Philosophy -with an admirable amount of misanthropy, and 50% flirting and not-so-cleverly disguised innuendo. Shaw was somewhat amused by it; the undying passion Root had for frustrating her with salacious comments, but for the most part, it made her want to shoot her.

“Sameen,” the low voice, the over-confident smirk.

“Root.”

“Can I tie you up?” Root requested, brandishing handcuffs with an all-knowing grin.  “They’re expecting us in an hour.”

_It’s for the damn mission._ Shaw inwardly groaned, resigning her body over to Root.

“I didn’t imagine you’d be that easy,” that damn grin, that fucking spark in her eye.

“Shut it.”

**2.**

Root talked. A lot.

When she wasn’t sulking, or melancholy, she was cheerful, and endlessly talkative. Shaw couldn’t decide which was the lesser of two evils; until now.

Stake-out with Root was worse than a stake-out with Fusco.

“You played piano as a child.”

Shaw looked over at her, an irritated expression on her face.

“You hated it,” Root’s idle comments about Shaw’s own life were one of the reasons she would never like The Machine.

“My mom played,” Shaw shrugged, turning back to the window and watching the empty lot; praying for Kyle Headey to appear sooner rather than later.

“So why didn’t you like it?”

“I hated my teacher.” Shaw looked upwards; praying to whatever semblance of a God there might be that this could be over.

“I always wanted to learn,” Root smiled, resting her arm on the side of the car. “Were you any good?”

“I was six.”

“What was wrong with your teacher?” Root’s endless amounts of questions were driving her insane.

“She hated kids.”

“Your mom didn’t teach you?”

Root’s question went unanswered and Root went to repeat it.

“Shh,” Shaw instructed forcefully, her eyes caught on the redhead walking towards the building Headey was in. “She has a gun.”

**3.**

“Why do you stay? Someone with your talents could travel the world.”

Shaw smiled at Tomas, her hand playing with the hair at her neck, “I have things to do here.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it?” he smiled, placing a hand on her knee. “Someone as beautiful as you wouldn’t even have to pay for a ticket.”

“I’ve thought about it, but where would I go?”

“Madrid, Greece, Italy,” Tomas listed, “The world is large; I myself have always thought about going to the Philippines. I hear it’s stunning. Though after meeting you, I don’t know how it could compare.”

Shaw rolled her eyes, but laughed, “It _would_ be nice to escape winter in New York.”

“You’d never have to see snow again.”

“Where are you going next?” Shaw asked, leaning forward slightly in her seat.

“Barcelona. Would you come with me?”

Shaw smirked, leaning her head on her hand and accidentally turning on her dormant ear-piece.

“Convince me,” Shaw smirked.

“We’re gonna steal a jet,” the voice flitted in through her ear-piece and Shaw pressed her lips together. Root.  “It really didn’t take much for me to convince you to come to Miami. Tomas should really up his game.”

Shaw turned her head to the side to discretely switch off her earpiece and silence Root.

  _Root did have a point. It had taken her all of a sentence to convince Shaw to come with her._

_And they’d had fun._

Shaw shook her head and turned her attention back to Tomas. It was easy to silence Root over the inter-com; but to silence her from her thoughts? Near impossible.

**4.**

Root had visited Sameen _Grey’s_ apartment several times in the last month. Or at least, women who looked like Root had visited Sameen Grey’s apartment several times in the last month. Grace Borg, Eden Napier, Alannah Dix; they all had the foundation, just a different dressing.

Grace, a bumbling waitress; bedraggled blonde hair and red lipstick to match her uniform.

Eden, a honeyed school teacher; brunette hair wrangled into a ponytail and a cheap suit.

Alannah, a business executive; impeccable hair and make-up with figure-hugging dresses and ridiculously high heels.

Each and every-one of had the same sharp tongue, and flirty innuendo, and each of them knew exactly what Shaw liked.

“Hey Sweetie,” Root grinned, stepping into the threshold of Sameen Grey’s well furnished apartment- a far stretch from Shaw’s own.

“Who are we today?” Shaw questioned, studying Root’s person as she closed the door.

“Maddy. A. Simon,” Root beamed, stepping further into the room and gesturing to her clothes. It was one of the most Root-like costumes so far; jeans, a blazer, the glasses that Shaw refused to admit were somewhat attractive…

“What does she do?” Shaw questioned, rolling her eyes at Root’s model-like demeanour.

“I don’t know yet,” Root shrugged, “She’s new.”

“All of your identities are new,” Shaw commented. Root seemed to change identities every hour, shedding the skin of the last and becoming new in a hasty transformation.

“She’s new-er, but She has a plan for her.” Shaw had learnt by now, that _she has a plan_ meant that Root was going in blind, and that The Machine hadn’t spoken in a while.

“Just be careful,” Shaw muttered, “I’m fed up of saving your ass.”

Root laughed, “My white knight.”

Root could protect herself. Root could hold her own. It was something Shaw greatly admired about her, but without The Machine in her ear, Root was reckless, even more so.

“So what did Sameen Grey get up to today?” Root smirked, standing before her and winding a strand of Shaw’s dark hair around her finger. “Anything fun?”

Her voice was suddenly lower, teasing, and Shaw felt her smile widen; the formalities were all well and good, but they definitely weren’t her favourite part.

“Two makeovers, three complaints; no annoying woman showing up out of the blue.”

Root tilted her head, running her tongue along her teeth; “Shame. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Don’t you dare,” Sameen grinned, pushing up on to her tiptoes to capture Root’s lips in a fierce kiss, her fingers slipping Root’s jacket off her shoulders.

Root smiled against her lips, moving her hands beneath Shaw’s tank top. “I need a new polish.”

“You only ever wear black,” Shaw scoffed, pushing Root roughly over to the couch.

“I think Maddy likes blue,” Root teased, forcing the shirt up over Shaw’s head.

“I think Maddy needs to shut up,” Shaw commented dryly, nipping at Root’s neck as she unbuttoned her jeans.

**5.**

“My neighbour lodged a formal complaint this morning about the noise last night,” Shaw told Root bitterly.

“Mrs. Jefferson? We weren’t _that_ loud,” Root chuckled.

“You were,” Shaw retorted, folding her arms over her chest.

“Oh sweetie, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it,” Root teased, leaning over to whisper in Shaw’s ear.

Shaw looked away and Root began to re-enact the breathy sounds that had filled the room the night before, sending shivers over Shaw’s spine.

“I know you liked it Shaw,” Root grinned, pulling away.

Shaw rolled her eyes and avoided Root’s gaze.

“I don’t suppose you to could refrain from having these types of conversations on company time?” Harold’s distressed voice flitted in through their ear-pieces.

“Don’t worry Harry,” Root drawled, smiling as Shaw scowled.

**6.**

“Shaw?”

Root was teary-eyed, weary, but smiling. A scar on her cheek and other wounds adorning her skin.

“Root.”

_You’re home. You’re safe. You’re alive. We missed you. We found you. It’s over. Sameen. You’re back. I never gave up hope. I’m so glad you’re alive. I’m so glad you’re here. Are you okay? You’re real. You’re here. I missed you. I fought for you. Don’t leave again. Don’t do anything as stupid as that again. Don’t play the hero. Thank you for playing the hero. Thank you for being the hero. Thank you. You’re alive. You’re here. You’re alive. You’re here and you’re alive._

_I missed you._

_I need you._

So many things Root wanted to say, yet nothing came out.

“Never thought I’d hear you lost for words,” Shaw commented, watching as tears began to fall from Root’s brown eyes.

“You’re… I… Sameen.”

Shaw laughed and pulled Root close to her; embracing her with open arms.

It was a day for firsts.


End file.
